Chapter 1 – Flight Delays & Wrong Gates
Mia Nguyen decided her European summer would be calm and aesthetic.
The airport immediately disagreed.
Her connecting flight to Lisbon had moved gates three times in one hour. She had power-walked across the terminal twice, been bumped by two rolling suitcases, and accidentally bought sparkling water when she just wanted regular.
Now she stood in front of Gate B27, slightly sweaty, hugging her backpack and clutching a printed map of Lisbon—an actual paper one, like it was 1997.
“Old-school,” she muttered fondly, smoothing the folds. “You will not run out of battery, you will not betray me.”
“You do know they invented phones with GPS, right?”
The voice came from her left—male, amused, with an accent that sounded a bit British and a bit “I’ve watched too much Netflix”.
Mia turned.
He was tall, dark-haired, wearing a denim jacket and carrying a camera that screamed I’m a tourist but at least I have taste. A boarding pass hung from his hand: same airline, same flight number.
He nodded at her map. “Nice antique.”
“It’s not an antique,” she said. “It’s a backup.”
“For when your… other backup fails?” He pointed at the phone in her pocket.
“I like being prepared.”
“For the zombie apocalypse?”
“For when my phone dies because I spent the last two hours watching cat videos instead of charging it,” she said, then immediately regretted the honesty.
He laughed. “Fair. I’m Theo, by the way.”
“Mia.”
“Well, Mia-with-two-backups, they just changed our gate again.” He tilted his head toward the departure screen. Their flight now blinked cheerfully at C12.
Mia closed her eyes. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was. Come on.”
They started walking—half-speed-walking, half-jogging. Mia’s backpack bounced. Her map fluttered.
“Are you going to Lisbon for work or fun?” Theo asked as they dodged a slow-moving family of five.
“Fun. Solo trip. My grand celebration of finally quitting a job I hated.”
“Nice. I’m doing a photography project. Old cities, new stories.” He lifted the camera slightly. “Also an excuse to avoid my family asking when I’m getting married.”
Mia snorted. “Relatable.”
By the time they reached C12, boarding had just started. Mia exhaled in relief.
“See?” Theo said. “If we get lost in Lisbon, you can blame the airport for starting it.”
“I’m not planning to get lost in Lisbon,” she said.
He grinned. “That’s the best way to get lost.”
They ended up three rows apart on the plane. Still, Mia caught glimpses of Theo—headphones on, sketching something in a notebook, occasionally glancing back as if to check she was still there.
Why do I care if he checks? she scolded herself. You are here to find yourself, not… a random airport boy.
But when the plane landed and the passengers burst into their usual chaotic rush for the exit, she somehow ended up next to him again at passport control.
“Hey, neighbor,” Theo said. “Still holding onto that map?”
“Obviously,” Mia said. “I might frame it after the trip if it behaves.”
“Let me guess—your hostel is in the old town?”
“How did you know?”
“Because everyone with a backpack and a printed map goes to the old town. Where else would the vibes be?”
He wasn’t wrong.
Outside the airport, they split into different taxi lines. Mia hesitated for half a second, then waved. “Nice meeting you, Theo. Have fun with your… old cities, new stories.”
“You too, Mia. Try not to fall into a picturesque alley and disappear forever.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She got into her taxi, giving the driver the address of her small guesthouse near Alfama, the maze-like historic district of Lisbon. As the car pulled away, she glanced back once.
Theo was still standing in line, fiddling with his camera.
Okay, she thought. Cute meet-cute. Move on.
Lisbon greeted her with warmth and golden light. Streets climbed steeply between pastel buildings, laundry hung from balconies, and the smell of grilled sardines drifted from somewhere nearby.
Her guesthouse was charming… and located on a street so narrow Mia was convinced cars could only breathe in to pass.
“You like?” the owner, a kind middle-aged woman named Dona Rosa, asked.
“It’s perfect,” Mia said honestly.
Rosa handed her a physical key. “Careful with the alleys at night. Easy to get lost. But the city is friendly. It will return you.”
That’s not suspicious at all, Mia thought.
After a quick shower and a battle with jet lag, Mia decided to take a short evening walk. Just a little one, she told herself. Sunset photos, pastel houses, early sleep.
She brought her phone, her small camera, and her map.
The streets looped and twisted. Stairs curved into archways that opened into tiny squares that led into more stairs. Mia followed the sound of music and eventually found herself in a viewpoint plaza overlooking the river, the sky painted violet and rose.
“Wow,” she whispered. “You’re allowed to be this pretty?”
She took photos, leaned against the railing, and watched the city lights flicker on one by one.
When she finally decided to head back, the sky had shifted to indigo. Street lamps glowed softly. A guitarist played somewhere nearby.
Mia unfolded her map.
The wind picked that exact moment to launch a surprise attack.
A gust tore the map from her hands.
“HEY!” she yelped.
The map performed an elegant, mocking spin in the air before slapping against a stone wall, then tumbling down a flight of stairs.
Mia chased it.
She reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to see the map skid across the cobblestones—
—straight under the shoe of a familiar pair of sneakers.
The owner looked down, then up.
Theo.
He blinked. “We really have to stop meeting like this.”
Mia stopped, panting. “My map.”
He lifted his foot. The map looked like it had lost a duel with a blender. One corner was ripped clean off.
“Oops,” he said.
“You murdered my backup,” she accused.
“In my defense, it attacked my ankle first.”
He picked up the torn map and tried to smooth it. The corner with her guesthouse location was missing.
Mia stared. “My address was on the part you killed.”
He winced. “Okay, that’s… not ideal.”
She glanced around. Every alley looked identical in the dark. White building, blue tiles, tiny balcony, door, stairs. Repeat.
“Don’t panic,” Theo said.
“I’m not panicking,” Mia lied. “I’m… appreciating the challenge.”
“Right.” He slung his camera strap more securely. “Where’s your guesthouse?”
“If I knew that,” she said slowly, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
He laughed despite himself. “Fair point. Okay, describe it.”
“Narrow street. Colorful buildings. There was a cat on a windowsill.”
“That narrows it down to roughly… all of Lisbon.”
Mia groaned. “Amazing.”
Theo studied her for a moment. “Look, my hostel is ten minutes from here. We can go there, use Wi-Fi, charge our phones, figure out where you’re staying.”
Mia hesitated. Every solo-travel safety article popped into her head at once: Don’t follow cute strangers into unknown hostels just because they can make jokes.
“You can walk in front,” Theo said, reading her expression. “I’ll keep my hands where you can see them, and you can hit me with your camera if I try anything.”
“That’s… weirdly reassuring,” she admitted.
“Come on. Think of it as an unplanned side quest.”
She sighed. “Fine. But you owe me a new map.”
“I’ll buy you one,” he said. “Maybe even laminated.”
As they started walking, side by side through the glowing alleys, Mia felt something loosen in her chest. Anxiety, maybe. Or the idea that this trip had to be perfectly controlled.
“So,” Theo said lightly, “on a scale from one to ten, how much do you regret quitting your job and coming here?”
“Right now? A solid six.” She glanced at him. “But I think the city is trying to bribe me back to a seven.”
“Give it one more accidental meeting with a charming stranger,” he said, “and it might hit a nine.”
She snorted. “Charming, huh? Bold of you to assume that’s you.”
“Well, you keep running into me,” he pointed out. “At some point we have to consider the possibility that fate has terrible taste.”
Mia tried not to smile. She failed.
Maybe getting lost under a foreign sky wasn’t the worst way for her trip to begin.
Maybe it was exactly the way it was supposed to.
